


Toke

by heldor



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Banter, Blow Jobs, Collars, Dirty Talk, Fingerfucking, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Prompt Fic, Scratching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 21:18:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heldor/pseuds/heldor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Mike and Trevor smoke weed is just the beginning of their firsts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Toke

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bontaque](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bontaque/gifts).



> Edited as of 25/7/13 for some really sloppy brain-dead spelling/vocab errors. Only quickly beta'd by myself, so apologies for any dumb mistakes.

Mike stood on the front step while Trevor went to check if his dad was home; if he was, the afternoon was a bust; Mike would go home, Trevor would stay out until it was late enough for him to go back to work, and they’d start the cycle again tomorrow. He shuffled his heel against the concrete, both hands holding his bookbag up, barely glancing up as a car drove by-  ASA 356. He cursed himself for looking; now the license number would be stuck in his head all day. There was a bench across the street with a scuffed up picture of a real estate agent; “Lucy Cartwright, Move Right. 555-637.” Or maybe that would be stuck in his head instead.

He hears a whistle from inside, and knows it’s clear. Trevor’s dad worked shifts, and if he was home he demanded absolute silence. Trevor never said anything about it, but he didn’t have to, and Mike had a good idea of the repercussions for noise. Gran didn’t like Trevor very much, but she’d fed him plenty of meals, despite her distrust.

“Looks like he’s on a double; won’t be back till 4am.”

“Awesome.” Mike shrugs off his bag , _ASA 356,_ he found himself repeating the individual words and numbers in his head until they sounded right _sicks_ , _sickts, sicks.-555-637. 555 minus 637 is -82, -82 is the square root of 6724. How many prime numbers are there in-_

“Yo, space cadet. This planet.” He shakes his head and looks up at Trevor, a little bashful.

“Sorry.”

“You still counting?” He shakes his head again, but halfway it becomes a shrug.

“Kind of.” He follows into the kitchen, and Trevor pours them glasses of store-brand cola into cups they’d collected last year from a McDonalds promotion.

“I thought you were on meds.”

“I was, I- hey, no- I want Hamburgler- I was, but they made me...” he rubs his eyes, “they made me not... sharp. Like, I hate it, but- If my mind doesn’t work, I can’t- I don’t like it.”

“Bro. Don’t worry. Come on. I got Sonic.”

“Sonic. Nice. Mario is cooler, but-“

“Dude, no. Sega. Sega is way better than Nintendo.” Mike follows him up the stairs, grabbing his bookbag on the way.

“No, I think you’ll find it’s undisputed. Short hairy Italians reach a _much_ higher demographic than anthropomorphic blue squirrels.

“Anthropo- _what_. This isn’t S.A.T land anymore, Ross- quit with the vocab words, please. I can’t take it. And he’s not a squirrel, he’s a hedgehog, man.”

“I forgot your brain can’t handle stimulation after four o’clock, my bad, bro.”

Trevor fiddles with the Sega, but can’t get it working, finally deciding his dad’s taken the connecting cable, just like he’s been promising to do for months as a punishment for Trevor’s being constantly written up.

“Of course. Get Sonic, remove cable,” says Mike, “classic parent move. So I assume,”, and Trevor gives him a Look as he flips the tv onto some after school special. Mike pulls out the snacks they bought on the way home from school, and Trevor suddenly grins, pulling himself up from the floor

“Wait. I have something better than Sonic.”

“Better than the giant blue acid-trip hedgehog?” asks Mike, sat with his back braced against the bed and his feet against the dresser the TV’s sitting on; Trevor’s room is just big enough for a person to live in , but two teenage boys who’ve just had their final growth spurts push it to its limits.

“It just might be.” Says Trevor, grinning as he digs into his underwear drawer.

“Dude,” Mike protests in a sarcastic tone, “I told you- no more lace thongs, I won’t be your whore any more.”

“You love it,” smirks Trevor, finally finding what he’s looking for wrapped up in a ball of socks. “here, my crackhead neighbour gave it to me because I scared a pigeon out of her kitchen.”

“is it _crack_?” asks Mike without emotion, just a hint of a smile, taking a sip of his cola.

“ _No_ , thank you, Agent. It’s weed.”

“Seriously?” Trevor nods, pulling out a pre-rolled spliff; there are a couple more still in the little bag, and Mike sucks in his bottom lip. “it’s ok?” Trevor rolls his eyes.

“My crackhead neighbour is a crackhead, but she’s not gonna give me fucked up shit, I watch her kids sometimes.”

“Yeah, through the _window_ \- even a crackhead wouldn’t trust you to babysit.”

“Shut up, space cadet. You want to try it or not?” Mike feels a roll of nerves- psychosis, schizophrenia; he watched a news report on the dangers of marijuana five years ago in health class, and he remembers it perfectly. All of it. Of course he does. _Five five five, six three seven, ffff fi-five, fiyve- five._

“Yeah.” He says, and Trevor grins, sitting back beside him and pulling out a lighter. “Shouldn’t you open the window?” he asks, glancing around as though Trevor’s dad is going to come in at any second. Trevor sighs, and kicks the door shut, so that the tiny room is completely enclosed.

“Hot boxed.” He says with a grin, and Mike laughs, just a little nervous- _ASA 356. Fourteen red cars on the way here, three dogs-_ As Trevor lights it up, Mike’s staring at it between his lips as he takes a deep breath, holds it in for a long moment, face thoughtful, and slowly releases it. They’ve smoked cigarettes before, so he doesn’t choke, and Mike tilts his head a little.

“So?” Trevor instantly cracks up, and he holds the spliff to Mike.

“Try it, oh my god, dude, this is _sweet_.” Mike’s just a little hesitant, but he’s surprised to find he isn’t thinking about the weed, he’s thinking about Trevor’s lips, wrapped around the joint seconds before. He pauses for only a moment, Trevor shoulder checks him, and he puts it between his lips, breathing it in deep to his lungs. For a second he doesn’t feel anything, but it’s only a second, and he feels a rush of good will fill his body. He finds himself grinning, and he sniggers a little as he breathes out, releasing the thick white smoke with a little cough.

“Pussy,” says Trevor, smacking him on the back and then leaving his arm around him as he takes the joint back, pulling in another deep breath and leaning his head back consideringly as he holds it. “Now that. I could get behind.” He holds the joint out at head-height and Mike doesn’t even surprise himself when he doesn’t take it in his hand, just leans forwards and breathes in deep, letting it fill his lungs and his lips brush Trevor’s fingers as he feels himself relaxing more. _Five five... five five five_?  The numbers are still in his head, if he wants them, but he finds he doesn’t care about them. His brain lets go of the reins it’s been tightly holding onto and he’s amazed by how relaxed he feels when it does; he hadn’t even realised how tensely he’d been holding his mind until he stops.

“You ok?” Trevor asks, rolling his head to look up at him, taking another puff. Mike gives him a lazy smile.

“Oh my god. I am more than ok.” Trevor laughs again.

“Oh man, you are fucking _wasted._ ”

“What? No I’m not.Wait- is that even what you call it?”

“Stoned, whatever vocab police. Your pupils are huge.”

“Why’re you lookin’ at my eyes?” Mike teases, but the weed’s affecting him, and it comes out a lot lower and more sultry than he’d intended. But him and Trevor have been playing the ‘no homo, bro. But seriously. Homo. Woah woah, no homo!” card for years- close enough that they constantly fakegay each other, so he’s not really surprised when Trevor responds.

“I’m always lookin’ at your eyes, man.”

“Cos they’re pretty?” he asks, widening them, and Trevor is silent. “What? Dude, too much.”

“No. I mean. Yes. Because they’re pretty.” Mike is actually silenced, and he’s just formulating a sentence when Trevor reaches out and smudges his thumb over Mike’s bottom lip, brushing aside a tiny piece of filter paper that’s stuck to it. “Fuck, Mike,” he gasps, and Mike can’t find the words, he just licks his lips where Trevor touched him, and Trevor watches his tongue like a starving man. “Do you have any idea how much you make me wanna kiss you sometimes, man?” he asks, and Mike takes a deep breath.”

“So why don’t you?” he says, testing the waters, and Trevor grins. This close, Mike can count the freckles on his nose.

“You asking?”

“... I might be.” His heart is pounding, and Trevor drains his glass so he can put it on its side, resting the joint in it.

“Okay then.” Mike’s sure he’s bluffing, any minute now he’ll shove him and say no homo! And Mike will be the winner of gay chicken, but the next thing he knows, Trevor is straddling his lap and gripping his face, leaning down to press their lips together.

The contact is only enough for Trevor for a second, and soon he’s pressing past Mike’s unprotesting lips, gently lapping against his tongue against his, and Mike finds himself leaning up into the kiss, Trevor rocks down against him, and Mike makes a tortured noise in his throat, arching up against him, and Trevor pulls away, holding Mike’s bottom lip between his teeth and pulling a little before releasing it, looking down at him with hooded eyes as he reaches out for the joint. He takes a deep breath, and neither of them speak a word as he holds Mike’s face in his, squeezing gently until instinct makes Mike open his lips, and he blows a thin stream of smoke into his mouth before putting the joint between his lips, back down into the glass and then leaning down to kiss his neck.

Mike leans his head back as Trevor tongues sloppy kisses over his throat and down to his collarbone, sucking, making little marks, as he goes, stretching out the collar of his t-shirt. He pauses to take another drag from the joint, and he smirks at Mike as he finishes it and gently puts it out.

“How you doing, Space cadet?” he whispers, breathing smoke out through his nose, and Mike just nods. “You still with me?” Mike nods.

“Fuck, Trevor, I-“

“that’s the intention.” Mike grins at him, and this time it’s him who crushes his lips against Trevor’s, pushing forward, trying to straddle him, but the room is too narrow, and they tangle together, a mess of limbs and hands and legs, and Mike’s not sure when his shirt came off, but it’s not on him when Trevor’s pushing him down on the bed, and he can’t bring himself to care as he pants against Trevor’s wet, open mouth, trying to find the zipper of his jeans as Trevor does likewise; a contest to see who can be the first to touch skin, and in the end Mike wins, earning a hiss of indrawn breath as his fingers wrap around Trevor’s cock.

“Fuck, Mike,” Trevor whispers, his hair falling around his face as he looks down at Mike. It’s the first time he’s touched a dick other than his own, and he finds it isn’t that different- he gives it an experimental squeeze, and Trevor moans obligingly, rocking against his hand until he remembers himself and works Mike’s trousers down, beginning to return the gesture.

“Wait,” Mike whispers, wriggling around until he’s on top, “I want to-” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence, but he begins to kiss and lick his way down Trevor’s body, until his face is at crotch-height. Trevor seems to realise what he means to do at the exact moment that Mike firmly decides he wants to.

“Oh, fucking, shit, Mike-“ He wordlessly gasps as Mike takes him into his mouth, swirling his tongue. He has no real idea what he’s doing, but he’s seen porn, and he has a dick, and he tries to imagine what would feel good as he paints swirls on the underside, keeping his lips tight around his teeth, keeping the pressure up enough that he comes off the end with a sharp _pop_ , and Trevor swears, slamming his head back against his pillow. “oh my fucking god, Mike- where the fuck did you learn that-“

“shh. Genius, remember?”  He looks up at Trevor through his eye lashes as he pulls the flat of his wet tongue up the length of his cock, and Trevor grips into the sheets and bites his lips.

“Genius is fucking right,” he gasps, and Mike takes a moment to explore this new territory, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks, he finds, makes Trevor gasp, and curl his toes, but if he sucks a little too hard- “shit, Mike- it’s not a fucking toy- gentle, gentle,” he laughs around him, and finds that that gesture makes Trevor rock against his mouth. He takes a deep breath and goes down as far as he can, then swallows, trying to go even further and choking a little bit. “What the fuck are you doing you great big slut,” says Trevor, pulling him up and licking a kiss into his mouth, “what, you want my cock that bad?” he whispers, and Mike gives him a crooked grin.

“I guess I do.”

“Want to fuck you,” Trevor whispers, and Mike takes in a deep breath before nodding.

“Ok,” he says, surprised to find he hardly hesitates. He’s seventeen, and he’s being offered sex, with his best friend. Oh god, his best friend. For a second then he _does_ worry- Trevor is his oldest friend, the one he’s always been able to turn to, no matter what happens; he’s always been his anchor, no matter how stormy his life got, and-

“Space cadet,” Trevor whispers, “this planet.” It’s so normal that he smiles and realises he’s being ridiculous- nothing can change _this_ \- them. Their friendship isn’t so weak that fucking can change it. Trevor’s pulling out lube, and Mike finds himself grinning.

“What, you just have that? What are you, some kinda perv?”

“You’d prefer I didn’t bother?” Trevor asks, “by all means, I’ll put it away. You want my belt? You can bite down on it.” He pulls the leather from the waistband of his jeans, and brings it up to Mike’s mouth. He bites it with a grin, leaving imprints on the leather, and Trevor makes a show of fussing over it. “my belt! That’s it, you die now, Ross.” He wraps the belt around his throat, through the buckle until it’s around his throat like a collar, and he pulls just tight enough that Mike can feel it pinch, and he squirms against the not-entirely bad feeling as Trevor loosens it just a little, leaving it around his throat before he pushes Mike’s knees up, spilling lube into his palm. Mike finds himself breathing heavily, looking up at Trevor, who’s staring at his spread body.

“What?” Mike asks breathlessly.

“I’m gonna fuck that,” says Trevor with a grin, and Mike rolls his eyes.

“Dude. I’ll high-five you later. Well done, Virginity lost. Hurry it up.” Trevor smirks, and he leans over Mike as he slips a finger inside him. He presses a kiss into his mouth, catching the sharp breath in Mike makes, so that he pulls the air from Trevor’s lungs. He pulls away with a smack as he fingers him for a moment.

“Ok?” he asks, and Mike nods, aware that his pale cheeks are flushed as Trevor pulls his finger out a little to add a second- now it burns a little, and he hisses through his teeth. Trevor drops more lube onto his skin, and begins to slowly scissor his fingers until Mike throws his head back, practically writhing. “Damn you’re a whore, Ross,” Trevor teases, and Mike glares up at him, panting for breath.

“Shut up and fuck me.”

“Not yet,” says Trevor, the voice of a connoisseur. “one more I think.”

“don’t fucking kid yourself, you’re not that big,” Mike says with a grin, and Trevor smacks one lube-covered hand on his ass.

“you’ll thank me,” he promises, as he works a third finger into Mike, and now he can’t bring himself to tease, breathing in slow and deep through his nose. “ok?” Mike nods, eyes closed, wordless, and Trevor works him for a long moment longer, reaching up to stroke his cock with his slick hand. Mike groans, a shiver running through him, his shoulders curving in, and he shakes his head, blood high in his cheeks.

“No-“ he gasps, “don’t, not until you’re- I can’t.” Trevor nods, and sucks a kiss onto his throat- Mike’s pale throat is already blossoming red flowers. “Please,” he mewls, and it’s a sound that’s utterly alien to him; he didn’t know he could sound so depraved, but the tone works, and Trevor gently withdraws his fingers, rolling on a condom with all the skill of intense concentration in health class, pushing Mike’s knees up further to his chest as he lines himself up. Mike opens his eyes, blue meeting brown, and the two of them stare at each other, poised on the edge of something so much bigger than this one moment.

“Okay?” Trevor asks again, and Mike’s never heard him so cautious, so gentle. It’s almost too much.

“For fuck’s sake, Trevor. Fucking fuck me or I swear to go- Oh, Fuck, god!” Trevor slams forward, and Mike cries out wordlessly as he fills him. Trevor swears, and for a second the two of them are completely still.

Trevor mutters something.

“What?” Mike pants, “what?”

“I said _high five_ ,” Trevor says, with a shaky grin. Mike throws his head back and laughs, his whole body tense and shaking. “I’m gonna move, okay?” Mike nods, not trusting himself to speak, and Trevor pulls out of him slowly, inching out and then forward, his hips liquid as he thrusts, making Mike purr beneath him, fingers gripping tightly into the sheets. “oh my god, Mike- you-“

“I know,” he pants, “I know- Please-“ without having to be asked, Trevor’s hand finds Mike’s cock, and he gently squeezes in time with his thrusts- it’s so good, almost too good. Mike thinks it can’t get any better, until – “SHIT, FUCK, WOAH-“ Trevor stops with a jolt.

“Shit, did I hurt you?” Mike wordlessly shakes his head, curling his hips against him, urging him to move.

“You very much did not hurt me,” he pants, “that- just- right there again, please- yes, oh, fuck, god, yes-“ Trevor begins to move again, slower, then gradually a little faster, and some strokes elicit the same reaction, and some don’t, but within minutes Mike’s a panting, gasping, mess beneath him, and Trevor’s barely holding himself together.

“Mike,” he pants, “I- fuck, I’m so-“

“Me too,” he says, nodding, “yes, fuck- h-harder, please- I think, yes-“ Trevor obliges, and the pair of them moan in perfect unison, making them both burst out laughing. Mike bites his lip, his brow furrowed.

“Hey, look at me,” Trevor commands, and Mike makes himself look up- his pupils are dark circles, almost obscuring the blue, his bottom lip red and shiny from where he’s been sucking it, panting his breath. “Mike,” Trevor says, as he snaps his hips, and Mike gasps, forcing himself to keep his eyes open, though they’re hooded, staring up at Trevor. “I’ve wanted to do this a long time,” he gasps, and Mike throws his head back, moaning, before looking back at him, his eyes soft.

“Shit. Me- me too,” he says, gripping his hands against Trevor’s back, gripping his fingers, digging his nails in. “Me too,” he gasps, “Fuck, Trevor- Trevor, please-“

He doesn’t have to be asked twice, and Trevor begins to pound into him- Mike pulls his hands down, dragging sharp red lines of fire down Trevor’s back, and he buries himself deep as he comes, pulling out and dropping his mouth to Mike’s cock even as he’s still spinning from his orgasm. Mike cries out at the sudden loss, but then moans, pushing his fingers into Trevor’s hair, pulling on the strands as Trevor’s mouth closes around him, and in his state it takes him only a moment before he’s coming into his mouth. It hardly surprises him when Trevor swallows, smirking up at him as though he’s won some kind of competition. Mike lies back, panting, and Trevor fits into the shallow space between his body and the wall, shivering as the cold plasterwork touches his fevered body.

“Fuck.” He gasps.

“Well.” Responds Mike, panting, and they’re quiet for a moment before they’re both laughing, and kissing again, bodies pressed together. “I-“ he stops, licking his lips, and Trevor nods.

“Me too.”

Mike smiles.

\--

“Hey, Rookie. Are you listening to me?” Mike jerks himself back. He’d been staring out the window, lost in thought, while Harvey looked through the depositions he’s prepared. “There you are. For such a smart guy, you can be a serious space cadet sometime.” He looks a little confused when Mike blushes, and the associate surprises him by flushing scarlet up to his hair. “Are you ok? You seem kind of out of it today.” Mike shakes his head.

“I’m fine. Just- the cases. Are they ok?” Harvey shoots him a look over the top of the paperwork.

“Am I keeping you from something important, kid?” he asks accusingly, and Mike thinks of the note he’d found tucked under his door that morning- _tonight, drinks and dancing._ Dancing has been their code for fucking for years, and all he can think of is Trevor sitting in his apartment, going through his stuff with the ease and self-assurance of a thousand years of friendship.

“No, I just-” Harvey sighs.

“Go home, Rookie. You’re no good to me like this.” Mike ought to be ashamed by how quickly he grabs his suit jacket and throws it on, but he can’t bring himself to care.

“Thanks,” he says, “I promise, I’ll be in six o’clock tomorrow morning to fix any notes you have for these.”

“I shouldn’t have notes, Mike. If I have notes you’re not doing your job properly, and if you’re not doing your job properly, I’ll have to kill you, Mr Bond.”

“that’s not even in any of the movies,” he says, “totally inaccurate quote.”

“Oh shut up. I hope she doesn’t disappoint.” Harvey hasn’t taken his eyes off the papers, but now he looks up, smirking, “I know the look of a man going to get laid. Off you go. Send her my best wishes.”

“Oh Harvey. For a smart guy, you’re _so wrong_. Goodnight.” 


End file.
